


Avengers: The Horror

by Xx_PseudoPsycho_xX



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Attempt at Humor, Bad Decisions, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Crack, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, Dark Thor (Marvel), Emo Clint Barton, Everyone Has Issues, Explicit Language, Gen, Horror, Horror Crack, Inappropriate Humor, Loki Has Issues, Nick Fury Swears, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Parody, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury Friendship, psycho Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xx_PseudoPsycho_xX/pseuds/Xx_PseudoPsycho_xX
Summary: When an insane alien shows up on Earth with malicious intentions, S.H.I.E.L.D. has no choice but bring together a team of remarkable people. Unfortunately, the team seems to be just as dangerous and mentally unstable as the alien.





	1. Chapter 1

It was eleven at night when Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to grab himself a cup of coffee. He was feeling slightly drowsy, but he wanted to stay awake to finish his anime binge-watching marathon.

He was in his own cozy personal living quarters, located in the basement of S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Today had not been a remarkable day. Then again, neither had yesterday, or the day before.

Fury had just finished pouring his cup of coffee—it was pumpkin-spice; his favorite—when his phone began to ring. Sighing loudly, he looked at his phone. Ugh. It was Maria Hill. If she was calling again to ask about cat-sitting...

He answered with a gruff, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Sir, Agent Coulson just called, he says we need to head to the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Facility." Maria's voice came back, unphased by Fury's greeting.

"Wait a minute, what 'pegasus' facility?" Fury frowned, confused. Pegasuses weren't real.

Or _were_ they?

"The facility holding the Tesseract? You know, in New Mexico." Maria clarified quickly.

"Oh right, the one holding the blue-cube thing." Fury nodded as he spoke, recalling the Tesseract. "What's up?"

"He didn't say much, but from what I can gather, something's wrong with the Tesseract." Maria informed. "He says we need to get there right away."

Fury, upon hearing that, felt greatly annoyed. "Can't you just go?"

"He asked specifically for you to show up." Maria said. "You know Coulson wouldn't call if it wasn't serious."

"I don't know about that." Fury sipped his coffee, recalling the many times Agent Coulson had overreacted.

"Look, I already have a helicopter waiting for us. We could have a crisis on our hands, sir." Maria said.

Fury felt his stomach knot as worry washed over him. "You... you don’t mean I have to get on a helicopter do you?" he whispered.

"Yes, I'm sorry, but this is too urgent, we can't drive there." Maria replied hastily. "I have some pills that'll help you calm down up there. I'll see you in five minutes."

"No, no, no, Hill you better not hang up cause I am not—” Fury cut mid sentence when he heard Hill hang up.

"Shit!" He threw his phone across the room in anger.

Fury set his cup of coffee down on a side table, feeling sick already. He got chilly and shaky, his throat tightened to the point where swallowing became painful

That night was supposed to be perfect. Just him, his anime, and his pumpkin-spice coffee.

Now he had to face one of his greatest fears.

Riding in a helicopter.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Phil Coulson watched as the Director struggled to get off the helicopter. He sighed and looked at his watch. They were never going to get everyone out of the facility. Certainly not with Nick Fury's evident fear of heights.

When Coulson looked back at the Fury he saw that Agent Maria Hill was practically carrying him out of the helicopter. Fury looked extremely shaken up; his eyes wide and nearly bulging out of his head and his skin shiny with sweat.

Neither Fury or Hill made any attempt to walk towards him and the facility. So, because of pure urgency, Coulson started to approach the landing bay.

“Director.” Coulson greeted. "It's good you could come."

“Yeah... I don't feel too good right now.” Fury stumbled away to a nearby wastebin and began retching.

“So, how bad is it,” A voice said. Coulson turned his attention from the very ill Director towards Maria Hill, who had a flip mirror out and was putting on lipgloss.

“We don’t know, ma’am,” Coulson was beginning to feel annoyed. They had a serious situation at hand, and _these_ people were supposed to be in charge. “Sir!” He called to Fury, who looked up from the waste-bin.

“We’d better go inside.” Coulson advised, pointing behind him.

“Why? Everyone else is running out of there.” Fury pointed to the mob of people who were evacuating.

“It’s the Tesseract sir, Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from it four hours ago.” Coulson briefed. “Hey, now, wait a minute,” Fury looked angry, and began walking over to him. “Did you motherfuckin’ just tell me Selvig ran some tests on that blue-cube?”

“He wasn’t testing—” Coulson began to explain.

“—No! NASA didn't authorize that motherfucker to go fooling around with that thing! I—”

“—Sir, it just turned itself on. I guess maybe it saw something sexy in the room.” Coulson explained hurriedly, not wanting Fury to throw another one of his tantrums. They certainly didn't have time for another one of _those_.

“Oh.” Fury sounded somewhat embarrassed.

“How high are the energy levels on the lego cube?” Hill spoke up, putting her mirror away.

“Too high, and they're getting higher.” Coulson reported. “It’ll take about another ten hours for everyone to get evacuated, but,” He added, licking his lips. “Evacuation might be pointless; if we can’t control the Tesseract’s ejaculation, there might not be a minimum safe distance.”

“Huh,” Fury stroked his chin. “Well then, I guess we should tell them to go back to sleep.”

Coulson thought that this was not an appropriate time for such a dark joke. But he decided not to say anything.

“Tell them!” Fury ordered, his eyes going wide with annoyance.

“...To go to sleep...?” Coulson frowned.

“Did I stutter or are you hard of hearing!?” Fury practically screamed.

“Sorry!” Coulson pulled out his walkie-talkie. After telling the man operating the loudspeaker to tell everyone to go to sleep, he put it back into his belt and turned to Fury.

“If you’ll come with me, sir, I can take you to the Tesseract.” He said, hoping Fury would agree.

For a moment it looked like the Director would argue. But then he sighed, shrugged, and, turning to Hill, said, “I need you to go and make sure all the issues of my comic books I ordered have been shipped out.”

Coulson couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Hill snorted, “When are you going to stop reading that stuff? It's for _dorks._ ”

“You go and make sure that every issue is gone, bitch.” Fury snapped. Hill merely sighed and walked passed him, muttering curses under her breath. When she had entered the building, Fury crossed his arms and glared at Coulson.

“Are you going to bring me to the blue-cube or keep staring at me?” Fury. growled.

“Right this way sir,” Coulson said, turning and leading the way to the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Fury entered the facility that held the Tesseract. Coulson had left him at the door, saying he had to go get something.

“Where is the Selvig bitch!?” Fury shouted, causing the attention of all the people in the room to be directed to him.

Dr. Erik Selvig, a creepy looking man, walked slowly out behind some machinery.

“Yessss?” He asked in a croaky, slow voice.

“Get over here right motherfuckin’ now.” Fury demanded. The blue-cube caught his eye. It was brighter than ever, and flare rings around it sparked randomly.

“The Tesseract, is…”

Fury jumped at the sound of a voice directly in his ear. Selvig was mere inches from him, and whispering creepily.

“... _Masturbating_ .” Selvig grinned. Fury glared at the man, disgusted and at a loss for words. Why they had even got Selvig involved with all this was beyond him. All he knew was _he_ didn’t authorize it.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” He asked finally.

“Yes.” Selvig said. His eyes flicked towards the Tesseract. “We cannot shut it down, as you see it is an energy source. We turn it off, it turns back on. If it reaches orgasmic levels—”

“—Everyone will die. Yes, I know, I know. Where the hell is Barton?” Fury asked, looking around the room, sick of talking with Selvig.

“Being emo as usual.” Selvig pointed up to the railings, where a dark figure stood. Selvig then crept away, looking once again at the Tesseract and rubbing his hands.

Fury walked over to the railings. “Agent Barton, report!”

Agent Barton ignored him. As Fury looked closer, he saw that the emotional archer had headphones in. Angrily, Fury ascended the stairs, deliberately stomping down on each step as loud as he could. When he reached Barton he didn’t hesitate in snatching the headphones off his head.

“Hey, dude! What the hell!” Barton whipped toward him, his face contorted with rage. He reached to grab his headphones back but Fury held them up higher.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing listening to bullshit music while the blue-cube is masturbating!?” Fury demanded.

“We're all gonna die!” Barton replied, his voice adopting a whining tone that made Fury want to strangle him. “So I might as well listen to something, like, good when the end comes!”

“Boy, pull yourself together!” Fury shouted. “I gave you this job so you could keep an eye on the Tesseract! Has anyone come in and tampered with it? I knew they shouldn’t have brought in that motherfucker Selvig—”

“—Dude, no one's come or gone, if there was any tampering, it wasn’t at this end.” Clint crossed his arms.

“At this end?” Fury echoed.

“Yeah, man, it's a doorway to space, and doors open both ways,” Clint explained.

“They do?” Fury asked while glaring at Clint. “Gee, I didn’t know that.”

“Really?” Clint asked, sounding surprised and amused. “You didn't know that—”

“—Of course I fucking knew that! Do I look stupid to you, boy?!” Fury shouted, punching Clint in the face. Clint crumpled in an instant. Before Fury could say or do anything more to Clint, the whole facility began to shake and thunder. Fury looked at the Tesseract, which was now glowing extremely bright.

The facility was rumbling so much that Fury fell off the rails, screaming. When he hit the ground, Fury saw that the Tesseract had built up energy into a beam.

“What’s happening!?” Fury shouted to Selvig.

“It’s coming!” Selvig shouted back.

The beam formed a vortex, and then a gust of blue energy filled the room, blinding everyone temporarily. The lights had gone out, the only light came from the Tesseract, which had dimmed.

It was quiet.

Very quiet.

Until a sound reached Fury’s ears. The sound of heavy breathing.

Some of the agents, armed with guns, were approaching a kneeling figure surrounded by smoke who had suddenly appeared in the room, several feet in front of the Tesseract.

The figure looked up, still breathing heavily. When the smoke surrounding him had cleared, Fury could see that he was wearing a hockey-mask, and in his hands was a chainsaw that had bright blue glowing blades. His eyes fell on Fury, and he stood up.

“Look dude, if you wanted to do a Jason cosplay; he doesn’t use a _Goddamn chainsaw!_ ” Fury said, irritated. Cosplayers these days; they could never get the costume right. “And don’t go giving me that shit that it’s a Jason-Leatherface mashup.”

The intruder looked at the chainsaw, as if he had just noticed he had been holding it. Then he looked back at Fury, and then at everyone in the room.

“Are you retarded?” Fury asked.

Suddenly the intruder raised the chainsaw, and it shot a blue exploding laser towards Fury. Fury quickly leapt to the side. The other scientists in the room were not so lucky. The minute the laser hit them they seemed to explode into a bloody fountain of mess. Chaos broke loose in those few seconds. The screams of the scientists and agents being hit sent shivers down Fury’s spine. He tripped over a fallen table and fell to the ground. He saw the agents begin firing their guns at the intruder, but the bullets seemed to bounce off harmlessly.

The intruder leaped towards his attackers, diving the chainsaw into the nearest one. Beneath the loud sound of the chainsaw there was a shriek. In another few seconds the rest of the agents had been taken down, their insides strewn about the room.

The scientists that had survived the attack cowered behind their desks, crying pathetically. The intruder started walking deeper into the room, looking at the chaos he had caused. Fury pretended to be dead on the floor, knowing that was his only chance of survival. The intruder stepped past him without a glance. When he had passed Fury started crawling towards the Tesseract. He had to get it out of here. He slipped behind a desk, out of view for at least a moment. He had just started to inch closer when he heard a piercing scream.

Fury froze, wishing he had brought his gun.

“No man, like, chill out!” He heard Barton exclaim. “Don’t kill me. Come on, dude, just let me listen to one more song.”

Fury rolled his eyes and began to once again creep towards the Tesseract. He heard the chainsaw turn on again. Barton deserved everything coming to him. Finally he wouldn’t have to deal with him whining about his ‘problems.’

Fury reached the Tesseract without further incident. To his right laid Selvig, his shoulder bleeding, but he was otherwise unharmed.

“Fuck.” Fury muttered. He had hoped Selvig had been killed in the midst of the chaos. But it appeared that he had been lucky. Selvig smiled at Fury in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Fury noticed that at the ceiling, a great cloud of blue energy had appeared. He didn't think much of it, and reached out for Tesseract.

His hand never made it. For at that instant a dagger went through his hand, impaling it.

Fury screeched in pain, turning around to face his attacker. The intruder stood, watching him,  and behind him was... several of the scientists...?

All of them had dead, black eyes. All of them bore the same serious, senseless expression. All of them looked drained of life, with graying skin and dark circles under their eyes. They were like zombies. On the front of their shirts was a large red blotch.

“...The hell?!” Fury shouted. “Who the hell _are_ you?!”

“I... am your _god._ ” The intruder said. Fury frowned at his voice. It had a faint British accent to it, and it sounded very cold. “Your king, if I may speak so soon. I am burdened with... glorious purpose.”

“One, I have no god; I am a satanist.” Fury winced through pain. He caught Selvig staring at him. “Two, I am an american citizen. Thus, I have no king. And what’s that shit about glorious porpoises?”

The intruder sighed. “Must you ruin my grand entrance?”

“You ruined my hand, bitch.” Fury snapped, returning his attention to his impaled hand. He couldn't feel it, and he couldn't decide whether or not that was good. He finally figured it was better that he couldn't feel it. He looked up at the intruder, who, at this point, was in the process of taking off his mask.

When he got it off, Fury immediately started laughing hysterically. Here he was expecting a horribly disfigured, evil-looking face.

The man looked extremely exhausted; Fury would give him that. And he looked pretty ill as well. His skin was extremely light, but had a yellowish hue to it. He had greasy black hair which was flared out ridiculously. His eyes had a wild look to them.

“What are you laughing at?!” The man yelled. A couple of the people behind him started laughing as well. Fury noticed that Clint was among the people.

“ _Stop laughing at me!!_ ” The man screamed. His announcement was followed by immediate silence.

“I am Loki of Asgard.” The man said in a calmer voice. “And I will not tolerate any mockery made by you mortals—”

“—Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Selvig cut in, getting to his feet. “Loki? As is: Loki the brother of Thor? You know, the big, awesome, muscular, blonde hot dude who saved us—”

“—SHUT UP ABOUT THOR!” Loki shouted angrily, pacing over to Eric and stabbing his chainsaw through his chest. Eric tensed up, and then his eyes turned black. Fury watched in shock. Loki pulled the chainsaw out of the doctor, and immediately Selvig’s flesh began fusing together, until all evidence of a wound was gone, except for a blotch of blood.

“Just what the fuck do you want?” Fury asked seriously, keeping his eyes on Loki as he attempted to pull the dagger out of his hand. Loki grinned maniacally.

“I have come here to save you,” He said. Fury snorted. “Save us? From what, yourself? Cause so far the only reason we would need saving is because you came in here.”

Loki laughed softly.

“Sir, if I may,” Clint approached Loki, his voice sounded robotic and monotonous. “This place is about to blow.” He pointed to the cloud of energy, which had rapidly built up.

“He’s right,” Selvig said, his voice bearing the same artificial sound as Clint’s. “The portal is collapsing on itself. We have maybe a couple minutes before it gets critical.”

“Well then,” Loki said, turning to Fury and shooting him another smile and then nodding at Barton. Fury's brow furrowed in confusion.

Then a gunshot went off. At first Fury didn't even know where it came from, but then he saw Barton holding a pistol aimed directly at him. He felt something warm all over his torso. As he looked down he saw he was covered in blood. Fury couldn't feel anything.

He knew he should have worn his bulletproof vest.

“Motherfu…” He looked back up at Loki, who laughed crazily it him. Then he saw him turn away, his zombie-assemblage following close behind. Fury's vision blurred, and he found it hard to breath. There was a loud boom of noise, and a few brief shouts.

And then everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it for this chapter, hope you liked it!  
> Also update schedule is going to be a little rough, although I'll try to get a chapter out every Thursday!  
> Feel free to comment, I'd love to know what you all think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update on time! The chapter writing process took slightly longer than I expected.  
> Hope you enjoy the following chapter.

“Come on dudes! I have a wife and kids at home!” The man cried as he was pulled away from the truck by two burly S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

“Shut up, Agent Sheldon.” Maria Hill said tiredly. She was in one of the bunkers, where it had exits for the trucks. They didn't have enough trucks for all the people evacuating and the crates full of comic books. So some sacrifices had to be made.

“What's even in those dumb crates anyway?!” Agent Sheldon asked as several agents loaded the crates onto the truck.

“That’s classified.” Maria Hill replied. Then she looked at her Ipad, and after triple-checking to make sure all the the crates had been loaded, turned and started leaving, intent on finding the Director. The whole place had begun to shake a few minutes ago, but then it had abruptly ceased. 

She wondered if the Director was finally dead so she could take his place.

Before she could reach the door, however, it slid open. Maria stopped in her tracks when she saw an unfamiliar figure walk in. He was a tall, pale, sickly-looking man. In his hand was a chainsaw, which had blades that were glowing blue. Surrounding him were agents who appeared to have a bloody stain on the front of their shirts. As she looked closer, she also saw that their eyes were black. 

“Um,” Maria licked her lips as they walked past her without so much as a glance. “Who... who is that...?”

One of the agents turned, and Maria recognized him as that emo dude—Clint Barton.

“That’s Mr. Loki.” He said with a lopsided grin. Maria saw the other agents begin grabbing weapons. 

“What the hell happened to your eyes?” Maria asked, walking closer. “And did you get hurt? Why’s there blood all over your chest?”

Clint's smile faded, and for a second he looked blank. “You will find out soon enough.” Clint said in a robotic voice. And with that he turned and walked over to his fellow black-eyed agents.

“Where’s Fury?” Maria ventured closer to them. “What happened to the whole building? What happened to the Tesseract?”

The agents ignored her, but the guy with the chainsaw--evidently, Mr. Loki--began laughing softly.

Maria turned and looked sharply at him. 

“My dear, I'm afraid you're asking far too many questions.” He said. “Also, I’m going to need these trucks.” He pointed to the trucks currently loaded with comic books. 

“Sorry, you can’t have them.” Maria crossed her arms. “Who are you, anyway?”

Mr. Loki merely shot her a smile. He turned and walked over to a nearby pickup-truck. The back was loaded with crates, but several of the agents were throwing the crates out.

“Hey!” Maria shouted. She pulled out her gun and aimed it at Mr. Loki. He didn’t so much as look at her, he merely sat down in the back of the now-empty pickup truck, laying the chainsaw across his lap. A wave of irritation crossed his face.

“Perfect. Has this idiotic realm never heard of safety restraints?” Mr. Loki growled.

“Sir, there are seatbelts in the front,” A man said. Maria turned and saw that it was Selvig. He too, had black eyes and a red stain on his shirt.

“Yet none in the back. Interesting.” Mr. Loki raised an eyebrow. By this time Maria was feeling very confused. 

“Who  _ are _ you?” She asked once again, holding her gun up to the man's forehead. He just sighed.

“I am Loki of Asgard, burdened with glorious purpose, your future king and god.” The man said quickly.

“Um…” Maria really did not know what to say. Was this guy on drugs?

Before she could even think about what she was supposed to do, she feld a heavy blow get dealt to her head. She fell over immediately, dazed. She watched as the room spun before her eyes, feeling sick.

Then she heard someone yelling in the distance. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but as she listened the yelling seemed to get closer to her, until finally she realized someone was literally screaming in her ear.

“What the fuck?!” She pushed herself up, but the screaming still continued, and she saw it was none other than Phil Coulson, his jaw hanging open and his eyes bugging out of his head. He didn't stop screaming to catch his breath. He just stood there. Giving the man a glare, Hill looked around and was just in time to catch the trucks zooming out of the parking lot.

“Shit!” Hill shouted, starting to run after them. But it was too late; the trucks had already vanished. She looked around and saw that one truck was still left, although it was loaded with crates. Without hesitation, Hill ran to it, and as she did she noticed that two agents laid nearby the truck. They were both mutilated to the point where they looked more like spaghetti with tomato sauce than humans.

Swallowing down the urge to vomit, she stepped over them and opened the driver’s door. As she had been doing all of this Coulson was still screaming. As she looked back, she noticed several other agents standing behind him, holding suitcases and bags, staring blankly off at nothing.

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Maria yelled at Coulson, looking over her shoulder. At that, Coulson stopped screaming and turned. He stared at Maria for a moment and then started screaming again.

“Where’s The Director?” Maria asked, wondering if she should wait for him.

“He’s _ DEAAAAADDD! _ ” Coulson screamed. “And that chainsaw man got the  _ TESSERAAAAAACT! _ ”

Maria felt shock course through her. Could it be true that Fury was finally dead? 

She felt the overwhelming desire to run around and dance, but refrained it; her new leadership would do no good if the Tesseract was missing.

She had to get it back.

So, she jumped into the vehicle, slammed the door, and started it up. The way out of the parking lot was a long tunnel, at least a mile long. She could catch them. 

Maria started the car and slammed down on the gas, speeding into the tunnel.

* * *

 

Coulson waited until Maria Hill had driven away, and then stopped screaming, closing his mouth abruptly. He turned and left the parking lot, heading for the helicopter bay. He heard the footsteps of the agents behind him. He looked back and made sure they were still carrying their important baggage.

It wasn't a long walk to the helicopter bay on the outside of the building, which had grown eerily quiet. It was the calm before the storm, Coulson thought grimly. He approached Fury's helicopter and got in. The pilot was gone, where he had gone to Coulson didn't know, or care. He could fly the plane himself. Coulson waited until the rest of the agents had boarded, and then started flying the plane.

* * *

 

Loki frowned as he inspected his glowing chainsaw. He hadn’t been on earth for ten minutes and it was already getting dirty. He brushed off some of the guts with his sleeve. When he was ruler of this disgusting realm nothing would ever get dirty. Loki leaned back tiredly. He felt sick. The truck was going too fast. Perhaps he would tell them to slow down.

Loki’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw the headlights of a vehicle approaching up ahead. His eyebrows narrowed; as far as he was concerned, the vehicle he was riding in was the one in the back.

Which meant that they were being followed.

Before Loki had anytime to yell at one of his enslaved agents there was a couple loud bangs, followed by the breaking of the glass window he had his back to.

“Someone is shooting at us!” Clint Barton shouted, his head popping out the side window to look at him.

“Really? I didn’t notice!” Loki spat. “Kill them, you idiot!”

Barton extended his arm out of the window, clutching a pistol in his hand. He fired at the approaching truck, which in turned slowed down, lengthening the distance between them.

“You have a terrible aim,” Loki said lazily, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. “I could have that truck explode in the time it takes you to load your primitive weapon.”

Barton continued firing at the truck, until it was apparent that his gun was empty. 

Loki laughed to himself, amused at Barton's failure to complete a simple task. But his amusement was cut rather short, for the minute the bullets had stopped raining down on the approaching truck, it began to accelerate, coming closer to them.

“Tell the driver to go faster!” Loki shouted frantically when he saw the truck wasn’t stopping. Barton yelled something at the driver, then stuck his head back out the window and threw his empty pistol at the truck. 

At this point, the truck was mere inches away, and Loki could clearly see the person driving it. It was that woman he'd thought Barton had killed. With a snarl he realized that, evidently, if he wanted something done right he would just have to do it himself. 

He started raising his chainsaw when the truck collided into the bed of his truck. Loki was thrown back against the car. 

“Stop! You will not fire upon your king!” Loki shouted at the woman. She ignored him like the fool she was. Loki stood up in the bed,clinging to the railing on the sides of the bed, raising his chainsaw in the air. However, the truck once again smashed into the back, this time causing it to cave in on itself. Loki nearly fell off the truck, but managed to regain his balance. Once he had straightened himself, he fired the ray of the chainsaw at the car. The woman ducked at the last second, but that didn't stop him from hitting the truck. Her truck swerved and crashed into the wall. 

Loki sat back down, shaking his head. He became aware of the sound of clapping. 

“Way to go Mr. Loki!” Barton exclaimed gleefully. The mundane title made Loki cringe. “Shut up, Barton!” He said.

“Okay.” Barton said. Loki felt his sick-feeling come back, stronger this time. Ignoring it, he scanned the back of the tunnel, making sure that there were no more agents pursuing them. It was then that he heard the entire facility rumbling. It did not worry him at first—even if they ran out of time and the whole place collapsed on him he was fairly certain he'd survive. It would just be a minor inconvenience. But then he remembered that he wasn't holding the Tesseract; he had given it to another agent to hold. Cursing himself, Loki turned back and shouted at the trucks ahead;

“Can you not go any faster?!”

He was about to yell more, but then in a flash they were outside. The cool night air instantly helped with Loki's car-sickness. They had not been out of the tunnel for thirty seconds when the whole building they had just left started collapsing on itself. Loki laughed, satisfied with how things were going.

That is, he was satisfied until he heard something over the engines of the car, until he looked up into the dark sky and saw a bright light.

It was a helicopter. Somehow one of those  _ fools  _ managed to get out.

“Sir! Helicopter at three o’clock!” Barton yelled out the window.

“I see it,” Loki confirmed, standing up again and holding onto the truck’s railing for support. With his free hand he raised his chainsaw and shot a ray of blue energy at the helicopter.  The first shot missed, but on the second time it hit the helicopter and set it on fire. Loki watched as several men jumped out of it.

“I can fly!” One of them said as he fell to his death. 

The helicopter started falling from the sky, succumbing to the flames.

“Fireworks!” Barton cried. The helicopter smashed into the ground with a deafening crash and an explosion of fire and bits of metal. Loki watched in admiration as the helicopter faded away into the distance. 

It was only when he could no longer see the bright glow of the fire when he turned to Barton, who still had his head stuck out the window. Loki rolled his eyes. Although he had only taken a brief glimpse into his head, that had been enough for Loki to know just what kind of person Barton was. He complained about the smallest things in life, whined that his life was so hard, and thought everyone trying to help him was wrong. At least, that was how he  _ had  _ been before Loki took control of him; now he was acting very subservient and docile, and more dumb than he had ever been.

Barton gave Loki a cheerful smile. Loki looked back at the road, shutting his eyes as again he felt a wave of nausea. 

“You alright, Mr. Loki?” Barton asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Loki didn’t reply, deciding that it would make him feel worse if he tried. 

“We can stop at the hospital, Mr. Loki.” Barton said loudly.

“Just be quiet, I’ll be fine in a minute.” Loki hissed through his teeth. There was a brief silence, and Loki was just starting to feel slightly better when Barton spoke again, in a loud, shouting voice that rang through Loki’s ears;

“Would you like an Advil Mr. Loki?!”

At the sound of Barton, Loki firmly grasped the rails and vomited over the edge of the moving truck. When he had finished he leaned back away from the edge, groaning in misery. The All-powerful king couldn’t even ride in a Midgardian transportation device without getting sick, he thought with bitterness as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re alright?” Barton said. Loki looked in anger at him. Barton shrunk back, frowning. Loki let out a breath, deciding against yelling at Barton, and instead began to elaborate on where exactly he wanted to be. He gave Barton directions to one of Selvig’s underground labs. Originally, Loki had planned to set up shop back at the facility he had just destroyed, but upon reading from Selvig’s mind that he had an entire underground,  _ hidden  _ lab, he decided that it would be even better. Loki instructed Barton to relay the information to the drivers. As Barton disappeared, Loki looked up to the skies, clenching his jaw as he did so. 

They were watching him.

They were  _ always  _ watching.

Making sure he would not step out of line.

Loki allowed a smile to creep across his face. Let them watch. Let them all watch while they had the chance. He’d get what was rightfully his, and more. So much more.

He looked back down at his chainsaw and chuckled under his breath. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**ASGARD**

 

Heimdall had his lips set in a thin line. His gaze was fixed on Midgard. Ordinarily, he would not look at such an inferior realm, but this time, something had caught his eye.

Or rather, some _one_. That someone being Loki, the fallen prince of Asgard.

Heimdall's mouth twisted into a snarl as he watched. Loki going mental had never surprised Heimdall. He had always had a bad feeling about that bastard. Heimdall contemplated on whether or not telling the All-father of Loki's return. On one hand, if he turned a blind eye, he wouldn’t have to hear about the entire royal family talk about him for centuries on end. The downside to this was that Loki evidently had decided to wreak havoc on Midgard. For the second time. Heimdall didn’t know Loki’s full intentions, but he knew that whatever they were, this whole affair would probably result in a lot of death on Midgard’s part. Not that he cared in particular. But he knew that the Prince was overly-fond of it, and if any harm should come to it he would become very, very angry. Heimdall shuddered. The elder Prince was nearly as bad as the younger. Heimdall contemplated a long, long while, going over scenarios in his head. There was no reason for Asgard to find out about Midgard, or Loki. Nobody went there. The only time it was brought up was when the Prince came to him to ask about his ‘lover.’ Heimdall finally decided not to speak word of it. He turned his gaze to another realm, fixating on a maiden’s dressing room. There, a woman briefly looked out the window, and then began to undress. Heimdall smiled. This was the best job in the whole Universe.

* * *

 

 

**NEW MEXICO, SEVERAL MILES FROM THE P.E.G.A.S.U.S. FACILITY**

 

Coulson shivered as a chill pierced the air. The warm rush of adrenalin had long since worn off and was now replaced with a cold, hollow feeling. He turned and threw a glance behind him, and he could just barely make out the faint outline of the destroyed helicopter. Coulson had been the only one who had survived the crash. Now he was walking up the road; hoping that maybe he could hitch-hike his way back to SHIELD Headquarters. Or at least get to a payphone, since he couldn’t find his cell. He felt tired and weak, worn out from this whole affair. It didn’t help that he was lugging around a heavy garbage bag over his shoulder which slowed down his every step. Coulson started walking again, but felt it was in vain. There had been no cars, no people, nothing whatsoever. In fact, it was eerily silent. Coulson had assumed that the police or other agents of some sort would be rushing to the pitiful remains of the P.E.G.A.S.U.S. facility. But there was no one. The garbage bag seemed to be getting heavier with each agonizing second that passed, but Coulson wouldn’t dream of leaving it behind. It was far too important that he got it back to headquarters. Another gust of wind scored through the air, bringing it's bitter needle-like chill with it. Above these two discomforts, Coulson became aware of a sudden noise.

It was repetitive, and, while not extremely loud, it was still there. It was, unmistakably, the sound of footsteps. Coulson turned around, overjoyed with the possibility that it may be someone who could help him. His face fell when he saw to his surprise that no one was on the road, though he was sure he had heard footsteps. Shrugging to himself, Coulson turned and resumed walking. However, he hadn’t gone three steps before he heard a soft voice, speaking directly into his ear;

“ _Hail Hydra._ ” It whispered. Coulson whirled around, looking for the owner of the voice. But like before, there was no one on the road. Had Coulson been a smart man, he would have been worried by now.

But Coulson, though a well-known figure in SHIELD, was certainly not a smart man.

So, at best, he was only mildly puzzled. He continued walking along the side of the road, whistling a cheerful tune to himself. It was then that an unseen blow hit him from the side, and Coulson tumbled to the ground. Before he could could begin to realize what had just happened he felt the garbage bag wrestled from his grasp.

“No!” Coulson cried, jumping to his feet. He stopped short when he saw a figure standing in front of him, the garbage bag in his hands. Coulson squinted in the darkness, trying to make out a face. The figure was a middle-aged man, he was wearing a black suit of some sort, and an old-fashioned looking army hat.

“Give me back my bag!” Coulson demanded, impulsively reaching for his pistol, even though he had lost it in the crash.

“Why should I?” The man asked gruffly.

“Because it’s mine, and it’s important!” Coulson shouted, walking over to the man to retrieve the bag.

The man backed away. “I am only looking for food and water. If you’ll give me some I will give you your bag back." He said.

“I don’t have any of those things! I barely got myself out of the facility alive!” Coulson whined, hoping that if he could make himself appear pathetic the man would give the bag back.

“What facility?” The man blinked. “I’m afraid I must apologize; I only just recently woke up, and I don't remember anything that’s happened since…” The man trailed off, shaking his head, looking greatly disturbed. “Do you know where we are?”

“We’re in New Mexico.” Coulson frowned, wondering if it was possible that the man was suffering from amnesia. The man held the garbage bag back out to Coulson, looking ashamed and embarrassed. Coulson grabbed it hastily.

“What’s in there?” The man asked. Coulson gave the man an angry glare.

The man licked his lips. “My name is Schmidt, Johann Schmidt.” He announced.

Coulson turned the name around a few times in his head. It sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“I don’t know how I got here, but I woke up laying on the ground not far from here. I saw you walking, so I thought…” Johann shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just really hungry, and thirsty.”

Coulson felt pity for the man. He remembered once when he was on a mission he had to go half the day without eating food. It had been torture.

“If you’ll come with me, I’m trying to get to a payphone so I can call SHIELD.” Coulson said. “Do you live around here?”

“I don't know.” Was Schmidt’s reply.

Coulson shrugged. “We can probably pull up your identification on the records at SHIELD. In the meantime, come with me.” Johann looked relieved. And so, together, they walked down the road.

* * *

 

 

 Fury was jolted awake by the sensation of falling and hitting his head on the ground. The first thing he noticed was darkness; it did not make much of a difference if his eyes were opened or closed. The second thing he noticed was that he was upside-down, and it felt like he was surrounded by some sort of cold material. Fury felt agonizing pain in his head, and equally painful aches on his chest.

What the fuck had happened...? He felt like he was being dragged along, upside down, possibly in a... _bag_ of some sort? Fury shut his eyes, trying to think. Then it all came back to him. The facility, the zombie people, Loki.

He just couldn’t remember when he had blacked out. The facility—what happened to the facility? Where the hell was he?! Fury tried to break out of his dark prison, and felt the material surrounding him stretch.

“Open up, motherfuckers!” He yelled. He felt the prison fall, and he hit the ground, groaning at the impact.

He became aware of a voice; “You have a person in there?”

And then there was a second voice; “I thought he was dead!”

“Why would you carry a dead person around?!” The first voice asked.

“Let me out!” Fury shouted. He saw a light from behind him, and then felt the material slide off of him. Fury squinted at the sudden brightness.

"Are you alright, sir?" A voice said, this time closer to him. Fury squinted at the person, trying to make out who it was. Coulson. Fury frowned. He looked at his surroundings and found that he was on the side of the road. Next to him was a black garbage bag—evidently what he had been in. Next to Coulson was another man Fury didn’t recognize.

“Why the fuck was I in a garbage bag?” Fury asked in a manner as calm as he could possibly manage.

"I—uh—you were shot, sir." Coulson fumbled, looking uncomfortable. Fury narrowed his eyebrows.

Right, He remembered. Barton had shot him. Fury looked down and sure enough; his entire shirt was soaked in blood. The bullet must have missed his vitals. Upon further examination, he found it had stopped bleeding. He remembered his hand had been stabbed, and glanced at it. It was sticky with partially-dry blood, and, since the dagger had gone all the way through, had an ugly slit on either side. This would all explain why he felt like shit.

“Why the fuck are we out here? What the fuck happened to Loki?!” Fury shouted, starting to get up, but he only succeeded in falling back to the ground, the pain zapping his energy away.

“The facility has been destroyed, sir,” Coulson explained smoothly. “Loki got away. Me and Johann here are going to find a payphone so we can get back to SHIELD.”

Fury felt himself fading, but forced himself not to fall asleep just yet. With his good hand, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. After briefly making sure it was not damaged, he handed it out to Coulson. “Call them from here. And don’t go looking at my private files.”

Coulson took it and began to pace around, dialing.

Fury glanced at the other man—Johann. He wasn’t dressed like a SHIELD agent. Fury wondered who he was. With a grimace he looked back at the bullet wound. If Coulson had thought he was dead, that probably meant Maria Hill thought he was dead as well. Which meant...

“Fuck.” Fury muttered under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Why do you use such uncultured language?” Johann asked.

“Because my fucking deputy director might be first in command now!” Fury shouted, glaring at Johann. Asking him about his language, who did this bitch think he was?

Coulson walked over, a smile on his face. “Bad reception here, but I managed to get through. They’ll be sending someone to come get us immediately.”

“Did Maria Hill make it out?” Fury demanded. “If she so much as fucking touched my comic books I swear…”

“Yes, she made it out. SHIELD says she called them as well. I guess she didn’t catch Loki.” Coulson explained. “He got the Tesseract, you know.” He added.

“Yeah, I’d figured that.” Fury grimaced, pushing thoughts of Hill out of his head when he realized it was stressing him too much. He looked at the barren desert in the distance. He hoped that there were no chupacabras around. He shivered. This was a dumb idea, coming out here. Right now he could have been through at least three seasons of an anime had he just stayed home.

But _no_ , of _course_ the blue-cube had to be sending off weird signals before giving birth to a sickly chainsaw-wielding alien.

Of fucking _course._

“Sir?” Coulson dragged Fury out of self-pitying thoughts. “What do you think we should do? About Loki, I mean. Do we have any idea what he wants?”

Fury took in a breath. He was exhausted and in pain, and he really was not in any position to be coming up with plans and ideas.

“He said something about becoming our god and king,” Fury resisted the urge to snort at how ridiculous that sounded. His amusement faded, however, when a sudden thought came to him..

“Wait a minute... Selvig said something about him being Thor’s brother.” Fury stated.

“If Dr. Selvig said it, there's a seventy-five percent chance it’s not true, you know that sir.” Coulson cautioned.

Fury rolled his eyes at Coulson. “Based on Loki’s reaction to Selvig’s statement I think it's very possible that he is, in fact, related to Thor.”

“Okay, so maybe he is Thor’s brother.” Coulson said, thoughtfully. “That would make him an Asgardian.”

“Yeah, he did say he was from ass-guard or whatever.” Fury nodded, stroking his chin. “Do you think he has a magical hammer as well?”

“I highly doubt it sir.” Coulson shook his head. “When we get back to SHIELD we can look into some of the Norse Myths about him, if you’d like.”

“Does Thor have any weaknesses? It’s been awhile since I read the file report on him.” Fury asked.

Usually aliens had _some_ ridiculous thing that reduced them to weak, vulnerable creatures. Magic green rocks, microorganisms, hell, even water in some cases, could render an alien powerless, or even dead.

However, Fury dropped these thoughts when Coulson shook his head. “None that we can tell. Once he got his hammer he seemed to be invincible.”

“Excuse me,” Johann interrupted. “But I don’t quite understand.”

“Too bad for you,” Fury said dismissively, waving a hand. He grunted as that small movement sent a wave of pain over him. “...First things first I’ll need to get some people looking for that damn blue-cube. I’ll talk to the World Protection Council when we get to Headquarters. They’ll figure out something.”

Coulson looked doubtful, but didn’t argue. Fury rolled onto his side, feeling his breathing become labored.

“Make sure I get medical attention when they get here.”

Coulson nodded, and started pacing again.

Fury shut his eyes.

Just before he had slipped into unconsciousness a thought came into his head.

The Avengers Initiative.

If he could somehow get a few super-powered assholes to work together...

It was a terrible, _awful_ plan.

But _maybe..._

Before he could think more on it, he fell asleep.

* * *

 

 

Maria Hill looked again in horror at the crashed helicopter.

Yes, she had seen worse.

But this, combined with the whole facility caving in on itself...

She shook her head. SHIELD reinforcements would be here to pick her up any minute now. She had called them not long ago, after making her way out of the collapsed tunnel. When her car had hit the wall it had caused the ceiling to crash onto it.

Luckily, she survived it, but she had been trapped in the car. It had taken her awhile to get free.

Now she was here.

Waiting.

The more she looked at the destroyed helicopter the worse she felt.

Mr. Loki was responsible for all of this. Hill wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish, but she knew it couldn’t be good.

She could only hope that they would find a way to stop him.

She heard a loud whirring noise, and a light in the sky caught her eyes, she looked up and saw a SHIELD helicopter closing in.

Time to go and solve this mess.

* * *

 

 

Loki felt hands all over him. Cold, rough hands that groped him without care, as though he were an object. His eyes were shut, but it made no difference; he could still see the dizzying flashes of color in his head.

Loki heard breathing. Heavy, long, drawn out breaths that made him cringe.

They were being dramatic. Nobody breathed like that.

“Stop.” He choked out as one of the hands grabbed his throat a little too hard.

He heard laughter, which irritated him.

“The Tesseract, Loki…” A gurgling voice said into his ear, which made him try to flinch away, but he was being held in place. “...Bring us the _Tesseract._ ”

“Not yet,” Loki mumbled. “I need it.”

The hands grip on him tightened and stopped moving.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who has only ever resulted in complete failure.” The voice said.

Loki couldn’t help but grin. So, they thought they could manipulate him by telling him how worthless he was?

Hilarious.

It really was too bad he was dead inside already.

“Ah, you smile now.” The voice said spitefully. “We will get the Tesseract with or without you, Loki. You are only a convenience for us so we can get it faster.”

“I’ll give it to you, calm down.” Loki snorted. “You’ve been sitting around for ages. What’s the haste? Surely if you’re all so desperate for it you could have retrieved in much sooner.”

All of the sudden the hand around his neck squeezed hard, cutting off his air.

Loki's eyes shot open, and he saw darkness.

“Do not question the ways of my master. You will give us the Tesseract, or you will _die._ ” The voice said, going uncomfortably close to his ear.

Loki couldn’t answer, he couldn’t do anything.

He saw something in the dark, something coming for him.

 

Loki jolted up, impulsively grabbing his chainsaw, breathing hard and shaking.

He was alright.

He was fine.

It was just an idiotic dream.

Loki was in Selvig’s underground lab, he had laid down on the floor shortly upon arriving while the agents he had possessed got to work. Loki shuddered, and then laughed at himself.

Pathetic. He was just tense from all the excitement.

“Did you have a good sleep Mr. Loki?” A voice said.

Loki jumped, not realizing there had been a person in the room with him. He looked and saw it was Barton, wearing a dumb smile.

“What are you doing in here?!” Loki demanded. Barton shrugged, the smile not fading in the least.

For some reason Barton wasn’t staying in the robotic-monotonous state of mind the other soldiers he’d possessed had. Loki considered using the chainsaw on Barton again, because his cheerful behavior was aggravating him.

“Get out!” Loki pointed to the door.

Barton stood up and started leaving. Before he got to the door, however, he turned around.

“Did you want me to tap into SHIELD so we can spy on them?” Barton asked.

“What?” Loki frowned. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Barton replied.

“Then do it. Have a couple men listen in. Let me know if anything interesting comes in.” Loki ordered.

Barton nodded, and then left.

Without shutting the door behind him.

Loki set his teeth together. He was tired, but he wanted that door shut. So he got up off the ground, walked over to the door and slammed it shut. Then he laid back down and fell asleep instantly. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**A DARK ALLEY, SOMEWHERE IN RUSSIA.**

“This is not how I wanted this evening to go.”

Georgi Luchkov wasn’t lying. This really wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to be simple dinner date, maybe some coffee and dessert afterwards, and; if it went really well, a make-out session to end the night with.

The worst case, he had told himself earlier, was that she would merely not show up.

But _this_...

Bound to a chair with a glaring light in his face, being slapped, threatened, and interrogated was far worse than he could have ever imagined.

He had woken up only a few minutes ago, and the last thing he remembered was walking up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet his date at. Then something had hit him hard on the head, and his memory failed him.

The fierce, red-haired woman had her eyes on him, her arms folded across her chest. He knew her as Natalie Rushman, a chick he had met on a dating site. She had seemed to be a nice, normal, sexy woman, judging from the texts they had shared.

However, it seemed he had been set up.

“I know how you wanted this evening to go. Believe me, this is better.” The redhead smirked wickedly. “Better for me, anyway.”

She stepped closer to him, looking very satisfied with herself.

“Now, I’ll ask you again,” She stopped mere inches from him, putting her hands behind her back. “Where are the illegal weapons you purchased?”

“I don’t have illegal weapons!” Luchkov shouted. “I'm just an average man, living in an average home! I work from nine to five! Hey hell I pay the—” Luchkov was cut off by a sharp blow to the side of his face.

He groaned. She believed he was a weapons dealer of some sort, and, evidently, she had no appreciation for 80s music. When Luchkov looked back at the woman, he saw that she had moved several feet away from him and was rummaging through a box.

“I gave you a chance to do this the easy way, Luchkov.” She said coldly, without looking at him.

Luchkov swallowed, terrified.

“Please.” He begged. “Please, I promise, I’ve never done anything.” he shook his head as he spoke, and he started to hyperventilate.

He needed a Xanax.

And he needed one _now_.

The woman walked back over to him, a sheet of paper in her hands.

“Listen, I just want to go home,” Luchkov whined. “Just let me go…”

“Shut up.” The woman snapped. She stepped behind him.

The next thing Luchkov knew was a stinging pain on the back of his right hand.

“Wh-what are you doing to me?” Luchkov gasped, too horrified to be embarrassed at how high his voice was going.

“Torturing you with a sheet of paper.” The woman whispered into his ear with in a happy tone.

It was then that Luchkov realized just how doomed he was.

Being kidnapped and interrogated was terrible. Being tortured was on a whole other level. But being tortured by _papercuts..._

 _That_ was immoral.

“Let me go!” Luchkov screamed as the paper tore through the skin of his hands. “I don’t know anything!”

He felt the paper against his neck, and screamed as it tore through the tender flesh. Luchkov started sobbing as it reached his face, leaving stinging, burning wounds everywhere. The paper was sliced through his skin for what seemed like forever, until it stopped abruptly.

By this time Luchkov had his head bent over, praying for mercy, and crying silent tears.

“You ready to tell me what you did?” He heard the woman ask.

Luchkov nodded sorrowfully. He didn’t have anything to lose now, he couldn’t take any more suffering.

“I,” He began, clearing his throat of mucus. “I downloaded music illegally.”

He felt the piece of paper press against his neck once again, and he shuddered.

“...And...?” His torturer pressed. He had to force back more sobs. “I watched Fifty Shades of Grey... and liked it!”

“ _And?!_ ” The woman yelled, pressing the paper deep into his neck.

Luchkov screamed, “Okay! Okay! There was this _one_ time with a hooker—”

Luchkov stopped speaking when the sound of a painfully high-pitched noise reached his ears. He cringed and shouted.

With a _click_ the sound stopped.

“What?” The woman said, stepping into Luchkov’s field of view, a phone up to her ear. L

uchkov let out a breath of relief.

“I’m busy!” The woman angrily. “I’m in the middle of a meeting!”

The woman was silent for a moment, and then looked shocked. “Hold on a second.” She put the phone onto the table and walked over to Luchkov.

“Sorry, but we’re gonna have to cut our date short, sweetie.” The woman smiled. Before Luchkov could think up a response he was struck on the side of his head. The edges of Luchkov's vision blurred, and then everything went black. 

* * *

 

 “Where’s Barton now? What the hell is going on?” Natasha Romanoff spat into the phone.

She crossed the street without looking both ways. It didn’t matter; no one was around anyway. But she couldn’t help but feel badass about herself.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later.” Phil Coulson's voice came back.

Natasha wondered how he had gotten her number. She had specifically told Fury that she didn't want this moron calling him. Then again, did Fury _ever_ listen to her?

“No, you tell me about it now,” Natasha demanded.

Coulson sighed over the phone. “Look, basically, some alien dude with a chainsaw came and took the Tesseract.”

“Are you high again?” Natasha asked. There was a long silence from Coulson’s end. Then;

“That is none of your concern. What your concern is now is that you have a mission, and that mission is to go and get Dr. Bruce Banner and bring him to SHIELD.” Coulson said steadily, his voice bearing almost no emotion.

“You mean the Hulk?” Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re not supposed to call him by that. It makes things less suspenseful.” Coulson scolded.

“Why do we need to bring him in?” Natasha asked. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard!”

“Agreed. He is probably indestructible and undeniably dangerous. It’s a terrible idea. I don’t know who came up with it.” Coulson countered.

Natasha frowned at his response. “So...? What am I supposed to do...?”

“Fury’s orders. You have to get Dr. Banner.” Coulson said.

“ _Why_ do we even need him though?” Natasha argued.

“Because he’s an expert in gamma radiation.” Coulson replied.

“Is he though?” Natasha asked, allowing doubt to creep into her voice.

“Uh...” Coulson trailed off and went silent once again. Natasha was on the verge of hanging up, when Coulson spoke again;

“You know what, you’re absolutely right. We’ll find another gamma radiation specialist. See you at SHIELD Headquarters.”

And with that he hung up. Natasha sighed and looked at her phone. She looked briefly at her background picture; which was of her and Barton. They were at Warped Tour, both of them decked out in full gear bought from Hot Topic. A smile crept over her face. That same day, Barton had gotten punched in a mosh pit and couldn’t stop crying about it.

God, she loved that man.

Putting the phone into her pocket, she started heading for her car, intent on reaching the airport so she could get a flight to New York.

* * *

 

**S.H.I.E.L.D. HEADQUARTERS, ANALYTICAL ROOM.**

 

Fury resisted the urge of booting down all the computers so that the World Security Council members would shut the fuck up.

He had arrived back at Headquarters an hour ago. After having a tantrum with Maria Hill because a good deal of his comic books were gone, and then going in for surgery for his injuries, he had called the World Security Council in an attempt to try and fix this situation.

Emphasis on _‘attempt’_ and _‘try.’_

“So now Asgard has declared war on us! I knew it! Hah!” One of the members laughed.

“We’re all gonna die! Haha!” Another cheered happily.

“I’m not even paying attention! Hahaha!” A third said, who had his back turned on the monitor.

“Who hired you dumb fucks?!” Fury shouted.

“I did!” A fourth council member waved from the screen on his far right. At that, the other members began clapping and cheering.

“Will you all just listen for one Goddamn second!?” Fury yelled. He was greeted by absolute silence and wide eyes watching him.

“Thank you.” Fury breathed. Maybe he could finally get something through. “We have been threatened with war—”

“—Speaking of war, who’s up for a card game?!” One of the council members held up a deck of cards. The other members once again cheered and clapped gleefully.

“...Since we lost ninety percent of the comic books, we need to form together a response team.” Fury went on when the members went silent again. “The people I have selected are unstable, selfish, terrible human beings. But I believe, with the right push—”

“—I’m _bored_ , I’m gonna go swimming.” A member cut in. And then the screen he was displayed on went black.

One after another, all the members began giving excuses and cutting transmissions.

Fury angrily kicked over a table as the last monitor went black.

He only succeeded in hurting his foot. Swearing, he fell to the floor.

So the World Security Council was useless. That meant that this was up to him now.

He got up off the floor. He had already told Coulson to contact a list of people he had deemed somewhat useful.

But there was still one more that he had to seek out himself. Of course, ‘seek’ was a dramatic word. What he meant was that he had to go over to the guest floor and enter the first room on the right. Before he left, however, he grabbed a couple files that had been lying on a desk. Then he turned and left the room.

He entered a nearby elevator and pressed the button to the guest floor. Despite the catastrophe that had happened, almost everyone at Headquarters was asleep.

Fury wasn’t surprised.

He _was_ surprised, however, when a long moment had gone by and the elevator hadn’t moved yet.

Frowning, he pushed the floor again. Nothing happened.

Damn elevators. Nothing ever worked here.

He pushed the button to get the doors to open. Again, nothing happened.

By now Fury felt slightly concerned. He pulled out his phone, intending to call for a technician to get him out.

However when he tried to call it wouldn’t go through, and a message came up saying that his connection had been disabled.

"...The hell...?" Fury muttered to himself. He tried to open the doors again. This time they slid open, creaking loudly as they did so. The hallway before him was dark, most of the lights were off. There was a dank, putrid odor in the air. Fury stepped into the hall, immediately feeling hot. He’d never seen this floor before. But then again, he never bothered to go floor to floor, examining the environment.

But he did know that this most certainly was not the guest floor. So he turned and started walking back to the elevator. He stopped short, however, when he saw what appeared to be a little girl standing in the elevator.

Her head was bent forward, with her hair covering her face so he couldn’t see her features. She was dressed in a long, tattered purple dress that reached the floor.

“Who the fuck are you?” Fury demanded. He was sure no one had come on the elevator with him. The girl said nothing.

Fury heard a fuse blow and all the lights in the hall went out. He’d have to call someone to fix it later. He pressed the button to the guest floor. Nothing happened. He pressed it again.

“ _Hello Fury._ ” A voice whispered. Fury jumped and looked at the girl. Her head was still bent down.

The doors creaked shut and the elevator began moving downwards. Fury deemed it was best to ignore the girl.

When the doors slid open again, Fury turned to look at the girl. Only to discover that there was no one in the elevator. The girl was gone. Fury was somewhat confused. He wondered briefly if he had hallucinated the whole thing.

Whatever had happened, he decided, was not important. So he stepped into the hall, and knocked on the first door to his right.

Unsurprisingly, no one answered.

Luckily, though, Fury had a key. After fishing it out of his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered. He shut the door behind him, wondering if their freeloader was awake.

The room was the size of a small apartment, it was empty save for some furniture and food in the kitchen. As Fury walked further into the room, he became aware of the sound of heavy breathing and moaning. He looked towards the bedroom door, which was slightly opened. The lights in it were off. Fury put a hand on his pistol, and cautiously approached.

“Aah... God…” A voice whimpered. “Please…”

Fury took out his pistol. Had someone gotten in? That was impossible; he was the only one with the other key.

“Buck... Oh God…” The voice murmured.

Fury stalked beside the bedroom door, the gun ready in his hands. So, someone wanted to go and beat up the old Captain? Not on Fury’s watch. He was just about to kick the door in when;

“Bucky! More! Aaaaaaaaah!!”

Fury stopped. He felt his brows narrow. He opened the door and looked in. In the dim lighting he made out the figure of Steve Rogers laying in bed. He was tossing and turning, the covers a mess on the floor. He was dressed only in a pair of neon green boxers.

“Bucky... please…” He moaned. “...yes…”

Fury turned on the lights, hoping it would wake the super soldier.

It didn’t.

“...It feels so good…” Steve muttered.

Fury’s lip curled in disgust.

“RISE AND SHINE MOTHERFUCKER!” He shouted.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin, his eyes shooting open. “Mr. Fury!” he shouted in shock, pulling the covers over his body.

“That’s right.” Fury said curtly.

“What are you doing in here?” Steve asked, looking embarrassed. “How did you even get in?”

Fury didn’t bother answering either question, instead he sat down in a chair a few feet away from the bed.

There was a long silence. Then;

“I was... having a nightmare sir.” Steve confessed, a hint of red visible in his cheeks.

Fury raised an eyebrow, snorting. “It seems to me like you were enjoying that nightmare.”

Steve went pale.

“But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.” Fury looked down at the files in his hands. “Something happened.”

Steve looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean shit might be about to hit the fan.” Fury offered one of the files to Steve, who took it and opened it without question.

“Hydra’s magic cube,” Steve said as he looked at the page on the Tesseract. He glanced at Fury, a wave of betrayal passing over his face. “You’ve had it all this time…?”

“Howard Stark fished it out of the water when he was looking for you. It came into our hands. Some folks think it could be the key unlimited energy or something. I don’t really know, and I don’t care either. But as of right now it’s been stolen.” Fury explained hastily.

“Who stole it?” Steve asked, looking concerned.

Fury handed him the other file. “He called himself Loki,” Fury sneered.

“No, but what’s his name?” Steve asked as he opened the file.

“He’s from some alien planet. You know. Like E.T.? Oh wait, you never saw that, did you…” Fury rambled on.

Then he got up off his chair. “I’ll let you read those. Then get some sleep.” Fury paused. "I know it's been awhile, but do you think you’re up to save the world again?”

Steve looked up from the file. He licked his lips. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Good. Come to my office at sunrise tomorrow... which is only a few hours away…” Fury left the room, realizing how late it was. He walked out of the apartment and pressed the elevator button.

 

By the time Fury reached his room, he felt disappointed and irritated.

What a waste of tonight this was, he thought to himself. He had to get up in a few hours, and would probably be losing sleep over this incident until it was resolved.

 _If_ it was resolved, he reminded himself. There was always a chance a villain could win. But usually they lost, because people liked happy endings for some strange reason.

But, if Loki _did_ end up conquering the world or whatever, Fury realized he would never have to deal with this bullshit ever again.

For a brief moment he considered dropping the Avengers Initiative. Then he decided not to; at the very least, it would be hilarious to watch them fight like cats and dogs.

All of the sudden Fury felt weak. The painkillers were probably wearing off.

Great.

He started stumbling over to his couch, and he glanced briefly at the now-cold pumpkin-spiced coffee sitting on the table.

It looked almost lonely.

He shook his head. Damn Tesseract. Damn Loki.

He laid down on the couch and grabbed his remote, turning the distraction box on.

The screen flickered, and then an episode of Dragon Ball Z came on.

Fury curled up on the couch, draped a blanket over himself, and settled in for a long stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray some of the Avengers finally showed up! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you like it!


	6. Chapter 6

####  **STARK TOWER, MANHATTAN.**

It was well past three o’clock in the morning when Pepper Potts finally finished cleaning up the robotics lab.  
She collapsed into a desk chair, letting out a puff of breath. No more than thirty seconds later her cellphone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket and glared at the ID.  
Agent Phil Coulson.  
Pepper grimaced. Just what did he want? And why would he call _her_ instead of...  
Pepper set her lips in a thin line. Of course he would call her; She was the only person he could reach. With a sigh, she answered.  
“Phil? What's up?” She greeted. She didn’t bother with the formalities; she considered Phil to be a good friend.  
“Hey, I can’t get through to Tony, is he... around?” Coulson sounded flustered.  
Pepper hesitated. “I think he’s in his study.” She answered carefully.  
“Would you mind getting him for me? It’s kind of important.” Coulson asked. At this point, Pepper doubted she was going to be able to go to sleep tonight. She wanted to demand an explanation, but instead agreed, and, hanging up, walked out of the robotics lab and into the hallway. She stopped when she had reached Stark’s study.  
Pepper bit her lip, pausing outside the door. She hoped Tony wouldn’t react too harshly towards her. Even as she hoped, she knew in the back of her mind that it was all in vain.  
She knocked on the door loudly.  
There was no response.  
She knocked louder, hoping that he wasn’t passed out drunk.  
“Tony?” Pepper called. There was a low, audible groan from inside.  
“Tony, could you come out for a second?” Pepper asked.  
“The doors unlocked.” Tony’s voice said.  
Pepper let out a shaky breath. She grasped the doorknob and turned it, pushing as she did so. The reek of alcohol and filth met her nostrils, so strong that she cringed.  
The study was dark; the only light coming from the glare of a laptop. Even in that dim lighting Pepper could see the room was a disaster; furniture was strewn everywhere, old dishware was stacked on collapsed, ruined dressers. In the corner of the room, on the floor with a laptop on his lap, was Tony Stark.  
He was looking at Pepper with a cold, angry glare. He was in what appeared to be pajamas. There were deep bags under his eyes and his hair was frizzed up like some sort of mad scientist.  
Pepper stepped into the room.  
“What is it?” Tony barked.  
“Agent Coulson wants to talk to you,” Pepper reported, rubbing her arm. “He just called me.”  
"And you answered him?" Tony spat. He closed his laptop with a slam and set it on the floor. Then he stood up, his gaze never leaving Pepper.  
“I’m sorry sir,” Pepper said quickly, beginning to sweat.  
Tony rolled his eyes, turning his head to look at a lamp laying on the floor a few feet away. He laughed a little, the sound bearing more anger than amusement.  
“You’re sorry, huh?” He said with a grin, walking over to the lamp and snatching it up. "So Coulson doesn’t know how an answering machine works?”  
Pepper jumped as Tony hurled the lamp across the room, it hit the ground and crashed to pieces. She started shaking when Tony once again looked towards her. He walked over to her.  
It took all of Pepper’'s strength to hold her ground, despite all the warning alarms going off in her head, telling her to turn and run.  
“You know Pepper, this has really pissed me off.” Tony murmured. His hand closed around Pepper’s neck.  
“Oh I’ll get to Coulson, soon enough.” He said, his grip tightening as he spoke. Pepper shut her eyes, fighting back tears. “But first I have to get all this annoyance out of my system.”  
“Mr. Stark,” A voice from behind Pepper said. Immediately the grip on her neck ceased, and Tony looked towards the owner of the voice.  
“How the hell did you get in here?” Tony demanded.  
“I’m a SHIELD agent, Mr. Stark; I have ways.” Pepper recognized the voice as Phil Coulson.  
“What were you just doing?” Coulson asked.  
Tony grimaced. “She had a mark on her neck. But what... why the fuck are you even here?!”  
Pepper turned to look at Coulson, who was standing in the doorway, dressed formally. He had a black case in his hands.  
He made brief eye contact with her, then looked at Tony.  
“The Tesseract has been stolen.” He announced.  
Pepper frowned. She didn’t know much about the Tesseract, only bits and pieces of information she had managed to scrape together.  
Upon hearing the news, Tony brushed past Coulson and walked out of the room. Coulson followed him, and Pepper tagged along.  
Tony went directly to the kitchen and began brewing himself a pot of coffee.  
“I thought SHIELD was supposed to have the best security systems.” Tony said tauntingly  
“I know, we use ADT and everything.” Coulson agreed.  
Tony crossed his arms. In the bright kitchen lighting he looked far worse. He probably hadn't showered in days.  
“Why would anyone to steal that anyway? It’s not like they could make any money from it.” Tony said thoughtfully.  
“I’m sure there a lot of people who would pay a pretty penny for a blue radioactive glowing cube.” Coulson said, and Pepper was unsure if he was being sarcastic or not. “But I doubt it was stolen for money. You are aware that the Tesseract is a powerful object, right?”  
Tony licked his lips. “Yeah, sort of powerful I guess. SHIELD had it because they wanted to go green, right?”  
“That’s besides the fact. Also, forgot to mention, the P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Facility has been destroyed.” Coulson said.  
“Pegasuses aren’t real, Coulson.” Tony eyed Coulson. “You’re not a brony, are you?”  
“The Facility that the Tesseract was in!” Coulson shouted. “The Tesseract was masturbating and gave birth to a Norse God who stole it!”  
There was a long silence. Pepper wondered if this was a prank from Coulson. If it was; he had a good poker face. But his story was ridiculous.  
“Okay, so, I’m drunk.” Tony said. “And that all sounds crazy. I'm not sure if I heard you wrong or you’re stoned right now.”  
“Why does everyone think that—nevermind.” Coulson shook his head. “This Norse God's name is Loki, and he’s Thor's brother I believe... anyway he said he wants to rule the world.”  
“I’m confused.” Tony admitted.  
“Why is this so hard to believe?” Coulson looked at Pepper. “What do you think?”  
“Uh…” Pepper refrained from answering.  
“Go ahead Pepper, tell him what you think.” Tony gave her a warning glare that sent chills up her spine.  
“...He said he wants to rule the world? Did he say anything else?” Pepper stuttered.  
“Yeah, a whole bunch of other stuff apparently. Something about porpoises and kingly stuff.” Coulson replied thoughtfully.  
He held out the slim black case towards Tony, who waved a hand towards Pepper.  
“I don't like being handed stuff.” He said.  
“I like being handed stuff.” Pepper forced out. In truth, she hated being handed things. There were too many dark memories in those actions.  
But she took the case without complaint. It was very lightweight.  
“Give me that,” Tony snatched the case out of her hands and opened it. He tapped the device a couple times and then several holographic screens popped up.  
“I told you guys, holographic screens are shit. How the hell am I supposed to watch good-quality furry porn without everyone looking?” Tony spat.  
“That’s oddly specific.” Coulson remarked. “But I agree.”  
“What is this about?” Pepper ventured to ask.  
Coulson started to say something but Tony cut in; “It appears to be videos of all these other super heroes who aren’t as good as me.”  
“Fury’s starting the Avengers Initiative.” Coulson explained  
“I thought that was scrapped?” Tony asked in disbelief.  
“It is. He’s doing it anyway.” Coulson informed. “He wants you and Pepper at the Helicarrier tomorrow.”  
“ _Tomorrow?_ ” Tony demanded. “Listen Coulson, you can’t just _make me_ —”  
“—Fury said if you don’t come he’ll blackmail you.” Coulson grinned.  
“Fine. Tomorrow.” Tony grunted, throwing a glare at Pepper.  
“Good sir.” Coulson smiled again. “See you tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow?” Tony repeated.  
“Yes, Tomorrow.” Coulson nodded.  
“Tommorow as in, later today?” Tony pressed. “Cause it’s three now.”  
Coulson looked confused, then nodded again. “Yeah.”  
“So today?” Tony asked.  
“What?” Coulson frowned. “Yes, today.”  
“Not tomorrow?” Tony asked.  
“Be there by eight o’clock.” Coulson waved a hand and walked away. Tony set the black case down and opened the refrigerator. Pepper walked over to the case and began reading through the files on the screens.  
She sighed; It looked like she wasn’t going to go to sleep tonight after all. 

* * *

####  **SHIELD HELICARRIER LANDING STRIP  
8:00 PM.**

“Alright sir, I just don’t see why we couldn’t have just done all our research at HeadQuarters.” Steve Rogers was saying.  
Natasha raised an eyebrow. She had just met the super soldier, and he was just as she imagined him to be; hot, yet completely naive.  
And there was something sexy about that.  
But what he had just said bore a hint of intelligence in him: Seriously. They were better equipped at the HeadQuarters; more security, no chance of falling out of the sky, and if they ran out of a certain food they could always send someone to the nearest supermarket.  
“But I want to show off the camouflage on the Helicarrier.” Coulson explained. “And this way it’ll be like a big family road trip. Except there’s no family and it’s in the sky and we’re trying to stop an alien.”  
Natasha snorted. She’d arrived at HeadQuarters earlier today, only to be whisked over to the Helicarrier.  
But she was not tired; with the power of memes and caffeine she had the power to stay up for weeks on end. Coulson had briefed her on what had happened, and as it turned out he wasn’t high last night after all. There really was an alien dude with a chainsaw.  
And she knew that if _she_ was confused and perplexed by that, she could only imagine how the Captain felt.  
Natasha heard the sound of footsteps approaching and looked over her shoulder. Walking towards them was Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.  
“You managed to get him to come over? Wow.” Natasha looked towards Coulson.  
“It took some convincing.” Coulson said, looking uncomfortable.  
“Hey Natalie, or whatever you name is” Tony greeted her briefly.  
“Mr. Stark, glad you could make it.” Coulson said. He gestured to Rogers. “I’d like you to meet Steve Rogers, your father’s favorite son.”  
“What?” Tony asked.  
Coulson shook his head “Nothing. He’s Captain America. Steve Rogers, this is Tony Stark, also known as—”  
“—Iron Man," Rogers nodded, extending his hand out to Stark. “I’ve read about you.”  
Stark looked at Rogers’s hand for a moment, then muttered. “Yeah, well, who doesn’t?”  
Natasha rolled her eyes. Tony Stark was the definition of egomaniac, and it annoyed her to no avail.  
“Hey Pepper.” Natasha greeted the strawberry-blonde haired woman. Her right eye was bruised badly. “What happened to your eye?”  
“Nat, it’s good to see you again,” Pepper grinned. “And I ran into a... wall.”  
Natasha frowned, puzzled by that explanation. Before she could query, however, a deep rumbling struck the air. The ground began to vibrate. Then they began moving upwards.  
She quickly looked towards Rogers as the vessel rose up out of the water; Rogers’s jaw had dropped. His eyeballs were nearly popping out of his head. It was indeed, a humorous sight to behold. Natasha smiled to herself. No matter what mission she was on, she was always sure to find something to laugh at.  
Over the edge, one of the four rising lift fans was visible. For a brief moment Natasha was curious as to what would happen if someone fell into one of those. Then she made a mental note to try it on someone at some point.  
“We’d better get inside.” Coulson announced, grabbing Rogers’s arm. “Let’s go.”  
Coulson led the supersoldier away.  
“I think he has a crush.” Stark announced.  
“You think?” Natasha raised an eyebrow. Coulson had been making goo-goo eyes at Rogers the whole time she had been there, and probably before that, too.  
Stark grinned, but it faded fast. “Where’s Doctor Banner?”  
“Oh, change of plans, we decided we didn’t need him.” Natasha said quickly.  
“Oh.” Stark nodded. Natasha felt the wind getting stronger, so she turned and headed inside.  


* * *

####  **UNDERGROUND BASE.**

“What are you doing, Mr. Loki?” Barton asked merrily.  
Loki ignored him, not having the energy to waste on dealing with Midgardian idiots. He was in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets absently. He had barely gotten any sleep last night, and as a result felt even worse than before.  
Loki snatched down a can from a high shelf and examined it. Judging from the words, it was a medley of chicken and rice. After grabbing himself a fork, he opened the can up.  
It smelled like anything but appealing. But Loki was starving, and did not care much.  
The food was bland and flavourless and had a soft texture to it. It was not pleasant, but Loki had tasted worse things.  
He had finished half the can when Barton suddenly spoke up;  
“That’s dog food Mr. Loki.”  
Loki stared at him, a look of horror crossing over his face. He looked down at the can in dull realization.  
He had just eaten dog food.  
He; Loki of Asgard, the rightful king, had just eaten substance meant for an _animal_ to consume.  
Had it not been so typical of himself, and had he not been feeling so terrible, Loki might have laughed.  
Instead, he felt a wide array of emotions overflow his system, beginning in disbelief and ending in rage.  
Loki screeched in a voice that was so high pitched that it hurt his own ears, and then he threw the can at a nearby zombified agent who was getting a drink of water. It hit the agent on the crouch and he screamed and collapsed.  
“I know how to make french toast,” Barton spoke again, unphased by Loki’s actions. “Do you like french toast Mr. Loki?”  
Loki felt his face heat up from embarrassment, and he stormed out of the kitchen, keeping his head down until he reached the room he had slept in. He shut the door and pressed his head against it.  
What was wrong with him?  
He shut his eyes, willing himself to keep it together.  
He was just tired, Loki told himself. Tired and starving. It was a simple mistake anyone could make.  
When Loki opened his eyes only darkness met them. He looked around in confusion; when he had entered the room it was well-lit, and there had been no indication that the power had gone out.  
As his eyes adjusted he recognized where he was, and he felt his insides knot. He looked around for a door, a way out, _something._  
As he dreaded, there was no way out, he was trapped. He forced himself to remain calm, and as soon as he did, he became aware of a figure standing next to him. Loki already knew who it was.  
“The Chitauri grow restless…” The figure spoke.  
Loki glared at the Other. He was an ugly, gross alien who had an equally disgusting voice. He had red teeth for some reason, and he probably had never had an original thought in his head. He was nothing but a minion.  
“I haven’t even been on Midgard for a day, tell them to drink some tea and rest.” Loki waved a hand.  
The Other hissed at him like some sort of cat.  
“Time is of essence, Asgardian.” The Other croaked. “You wouldn’t want to keep _him_ waiting now, would you?”  
Loki couldn’t help but grin. “He’s been waiting all this time. Surely he can wait a few days—”  
The Other hissed at him once again, beginning to pace around Loki. “You would be _dead_ if it was not for _him._ You would have died as the miserable, pathetic child that you are now.”  
“I am not pathetic. Miserable, maybe, but pathetic?” Loki crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know I was king of Asgard for a significant amount of time.” He shook his head. “And soon, I will reclaim that title.”  
All while Loki was talking the Other had been wearing a creepy smile.  
“My, what glorious plans you have.” The Other mocked.. “Conquering meager Earth, and then Asgard? How diabolical. We higher beings have bigger plans for the Tesseract, bigger than you could even imagine.”  
“I can imagine a lot of things, my ugly friend.” Loki said. “And besides, you don’t have the Tesseract yet.”  
The Other hissed yet again and rushed towards Loki, stopping inches from his face.  
“Please don’t kiss me, your lips are disgusting.” Loki begged. The Other grabbed Loki’s jaw, his cold, clammy hand made him shudder.  
“Mark my words, Asgardian, if you keep the Tesseract from us… from _him_ …” The Other bared his red teeth. Up close, Loki realized, the being was really quite nightmarish. “...There will be nowhere to hide.”  
“Could I hide on Knowhere?” Loki asked.  
“No.” The Other said curtly.  
“What if I made myself invisible?” Loki asked.  
“We would still find you.” The Other replied.  
“How?” Loki pressed. The Other’s grip tightened. “Enough of your foolery. Do you think you know what pain is? You don’t—”  
“—I _do,_ actually.” Loki cut in. “But are we talking about emotional pain? Or pain from injuries? I’m familiar with both.”  
“Shut up,” The Other ordered. “Like I said, if we do not receive the Tesseract soon, _he_ will find you, and _he_ will break you, in a thousand different ways _he_ will torture you.” The Other said.   
"Stop emphasizing on the word 'he.' It's making you sound foolish." Loki remarked.   
The Other let go of him. “I’d throw you to the pits now, but it has been foreseen that soon you will be encountering a… a good childhood _friend_ of yours.”  
Loki looked in confusion as the Other smiled.  
“What do you mean?” Loki asked.  
“You’ll see.” The Other said, his smile widening. Loki was about to demand an explanation, but then the dim lighting went out.  
When the lights came back on, Loki was back in the underground base, standing in the room he had been in.  
He sat down on the floor and pondered over the Other’s words. Childhood friend? That was nonsense; he didn’t have any friends as a child.  
Come to think of it, he didn’t have friends even now.  
He shook his head. Perhaps the Other was just trying to sound menacing.  
Loki wasn’t at all intimidated by the Other. No, _he_ was not the one Loki was afraid of.  
Before Loki could think anymore there was a loud knock on the door.  
“Come in,” Loki called. Perhaps it was Selvig, coming to thank him again for possessing him ad allowing him to analyze the Tesseract. He’d already thanked him three times since they had arrived here.  
But the figure who entered the door was Clint Barton, with a plate in his hands.  
Loki groaned in annoyance at the sight of him. Barton simply didn’t seem to have anything better to do then bother him.  
“What do you want?” Loki growled.  
“I made you some french toast.” Barton offered the plate out. Loki hesitated, but decided there was no harm in eating it. Besides, the dog food hadn’t filled him at all. With a murmur of gratitude, Loki took the plate. 

#### ASGARD 

“Heimdall, sir, The Allfather wishes to know how Midgard is doing,”  
Heimdall looked at the royal messenger uneasily. He was a terrible liar. Even worse when under pressure.  
“Why does he wish to know that? The King should concern himself with more important matters.” Heimdall said.  
“I do not know.” The messenger frowned. “But my orders were to ask you how Midgard fares.”  
“Then tell him it fares well.” Heimdall said coldly. The messenger eyed Heimdall.  
Heimdall looked down to conceal a smile. He wondered how the old King would react if he was told that his psychotic son had returned from the dead.  
He was too intrigued by that thought to keep up his ruse of pretending that Midgard was okay.  
Just as the messenger had turned to leave Heimdall called after him; “Wait! Tell the Allfather that Loki has returned!”  
The messenger turned in surprise. “What?”  
“He is on Midgard!” Heimdall announced. The messenger tackled Heimdall, who fell to the ground. Heimdall opened his mouth and screamed for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeek, I'm late! This chapter took awhile to edit for some reason, I hope you all like it.  
> Also, I have a [Tumblr](https://xx-pseudopsycho-xx.tumblr.com)  
> There is not much on it at the moment, however I will be posting some art on there in the not so distant future.  
> If you liked this chapter, go ahead and comment! I'm all ears for some criticism!  
> Arrrighty, see you next week, folks.


	7. Chapter 7

##  **ASGARD**

 

Heimdall crossed his arms, wishing he had a chair to sit on. He was in the throne room, facing the Allfather. The messenger had urged Heimdall to come and tell Odin the news of Loki’s return. 

Heimdall had explained everything to the King, who had nodded and smiled throughout the conversation, as if it pleased him.

Now, the old King, Odin, had his hands clasped together, looking thoughtful. 

Heimdall gritted his teeth. Everyone knew the Allfather was slow, but this was ridiculous; he had been standing here waiting for some form of reply for twenty minutes.

He was just about to march out of the throne room in aggravation when Odin finally spoke. 

“I thought I had finally gotten rid of him...” Odin said, his expression a cross between happy and in extreme pain. 

“Pardon, sir?” Heimdall asked, confused by that statement.

“...And then he comes... back.” Odin finished, ignoring Heimdall. “How much damage has he inflicted?”

“Only a little.” Heimdall replied quickly, forcing out the images of Loki gutting Midgardians with his cruel weapon.

Odin looked grim. Then, grasping his magical staff—Gungnir—he stood up. Heimdall raised an eyebrow, half-hoping that the old King would topple over just for his own amusement.

“I should have known.” Odin said, his lip quivering. “I should have known it was too good to be true.”

“Known what—” Heimdall started.

“—That Loki was dead!” Odin snapped. “That I wouldn’t have to listen to his complaints anymore.”

Heimdall resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“While he was growing up, I did everything I could to make him happy.” Odin went on, apparently going into some form of a rant.

“Like that time when you sewed his lips together?” Heimdall supplied.

“He enjoyed that, yes.” Odin nodded. He took a shaky step forward. “He has been nothing but trouble from the beginning. Did you know that when I brought him home when he was just a baby, he would not stop crying?”

“I did not know that,” Heimdall replied.

“Hours and hours, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” Odin picked at his beard. “It turned out, later; that he had been suffering from heat exhaustion. Apparently he was so picky that he could not sleep near a roaring fire. So henceforward, we made him sleep in a corner, on the floor.”

“Oh.” Heimdall said, feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what to say. “My lord, what do you intend to do about this? Shall we just leave Midgard to burn in ruins?”

“ **HEYAURGHY!** ” Odin screamed, throwing his magic staff at Heimdall. Heimdall moved to get out of the way, but it was too late; the staff hit him and he fell to the floor.

When he had gotten back up, he was surprised to find that Odin laid upon his back on the floor, his arms sprawled out.

“My king!” Heimdall yelped, and rushed over to Odin. 

Odin’s eye was closed, and it seemed he was unconscious. Other then that, he did not appear to be injured.

“This is why we needed to get him Life Alert.” Heimdall muttered angrily. Whenever Odin got stressed or put in an environment where his support was vital, he was sure to fall asleep. 

Heimdall called for the guards, who quickly rushed in.

“Again?” One of the guards asked boredly as he helped the other lift Odin. Heimdall didn’t bother answering. 

“Get him to the healers.” He ordered. 

It took the guards several minutes to lift Odin, and they almost dropped him on two separate occasions. But in the end, they finally managed to carry him out of the throne room.

Heimdall sighed. Most likely, the King would be out of commision until the whole Midgard ordeal had been closed. 

Which meant that Thor would be in charge of all Asgard until then.

Heimdall felt his lips curl into a snarl. 

The fool would surely bring the golden city to ruin.

* * *

 

##  **HELICARRIER BRIDGE**

 

There was a buzz of excitement and energy in the air. Agents were overcrowded on the bridge, drinking coffee, using computers, or simply staring dumbly into nothingness 

Coulson glanced behind him, making sure that everyone was on board. Nick Fury was in the process of greeting all the recruits. 

He spotted Maria Hill hunched over a computer screen.

“Did we vanish yet?” Coulson asked her eagerly. Ever since SHIELD had developed the reflective device for the Helicarrier, Coulson was always first to demand they turn it on.

“Not yet,” Hill said, her eyes still focused on the computer.

Feeling rather bored, Coulson walked over to Fury, wondering if the introductions were done.

“—Alright, you motherfuckers know it’s pay-to-play. Ten bucks, and then we talk.” Fury was saying.

“What do you mean, we have to pay  _ you  _ to help save the world?” Natasha crossed her arms.

“This is a privilege. Ten bucks, or I will personally push you overboard.” Fury said. At that, all the agents in the room gasped.

Tony Stark was the first to hand in his admission. However, Fury wouldn’t take it right away;

“Actually, since you’re rich, it’ll be twenty bucks.” Fury said.

“This is discrimination!” Tony screeched.

“Twenty. Bucks.” Fury said firmly.

Looking very angry, Tony shoved the money into Fury’s hands and marched past him. Pepper Potts and Natasha gave in and paid as well. Steve started walking away.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, just where do you think you’re going?” Fury snapped at him. Steve stopped and looked at him in surprise.

“You have to pay admission!” Fury held out his hand expectantly.

“But I don’t have any money!” Steve complained. 

Coulson felt his heart leap up into his chest. This was it; this was his moment to show Steve how much he loved him. Quickly, he pulled out his wallet and retrieved a ten dollar bill out of it.

“Well.” Fury said, his voice going dark. “Then I guess you leave me with no choice but to—”

“—Here sir!” Coulson interjected, holding out the money. “I’ll pay for him.”

Fury seemed to hesitate, and for a minute Coulson worried that he would refuse to take it. However, Fury merely shrugged, and, taking the money, said; “He’s all yours.”

Coulson stared at Steve. He was so perfect. Everything about him  _ screamed _ perfection.

“Thank you…” Steve said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s my pleasure.” Coulson smiled.

Biting his lip, Steve walked away. 

Coulson followed him. “So, I was thinking.” He began. “Maybe you and I could—”

“—Agent Coulson!”  Fury yelled from the far side of the bridge. “Get your ass over here; we’re going to explore science!”

Coulson felt a wave of aggravation pass over him. Damn it. His one moment; ruined.

“Let’s go,” He nodded to Steve and then set off to follow Fury and the others. They walked out of the bridge and down several hallways until they came to a room.

Inside was equipment for science experiments, computers, an insane amount of wires and a water tank.

“Now,” Fury stepped over to a monitor and began tapping at it. Coulson looked over at Steve, who looked tired.

“That’s a touchscreen,” He pointed out, wondering if his future boyfriend was confused by it. Steve merely nodded in response.

“So this low-key guy,” Steve spoke. “...What’s his name again?”

“Goddammit Steve, didn’t you read those files I gave you last night?” Fury spat.

“What exactly does he want?” Pepper asked timidly, standing close Tony. Coulson fought back a grimace. He had long suspected Tony of being an abusive partner, and last night had pretty much confirmed those suspicions. Or maybe he had just been high.

“He’s just spewing average villain bullshit. World domination and other evil stuff.” Fury tore his eyes away from the computer and looked over at all of them. 

“The blue-cube has a miniature camera inside it, allowing people to take pictures with it.” Fury began.

"Yeah, I read up about that last night... why exactly does it have that feature?" Natasha asked with a furrowed brow, crossing her arms.

“It just does.” Fury snapped rather rudely. “So I have devised a plan. Somehow, sometime, some _ one _ is going to take a picture with it.”

“How could we know that for sure?” Pepper asked. “Why would anyone, particularly a terrorist, use the Tesseract to take a picture?”

“All terrorists take pictures, and selfies, and videos, that’s a well known fact.” Fury grunted. “When he or one of his minions does, the blue-cube will automatically upload the picture to it’s instagram—”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Tony scrunched up his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _ Whose _ Instagram?”

“The Tesseract’s Instagram, of course.” Coulson supplied. 

“The Tesseract has an Instagram?” Tony’s eyes widened in shock.

“Yes! And then we will log onto the Instagram and be able to trace the photo back to its location!” Fury practically yelled.

“Okay, so your plan is waiting for Loki to take a picture? This is your plan?" Natasha demanded, her tone heavily doused with aggravation. 

“A picture will be taken!” Fury pointed his index finger at her. 

“No it wont!” Natasha objected.

“Yes it will!” Fury retorted.

“I... I’m very confused.” Steve said softly. Coulson looked pityingly at the super soldier. He wrapped an arm around him.

“It’s okay baby; it’s nothing important.” Coulson reassured him. Steve shrugged his arm off and stepped away. 

Coulson pressed his lips together, regretting what he had said. Evidently, Steve was uncomfortable with his attempts at showing his affection. He’d have to settle with some mild flirting instead, at least for the time being. 

Coulson looked back at the others. Natasha and Fury were still arguing back and forth, while Tony and Pepper watched.

“Yes they will!” Fury shouted.

“No they won’t!” Natasha insisted.

“Motherfucker,  _ someone _ is going to take a picture with it; it is inevitable!” Fury shouted. 

“I think we should—” Tony had just begun to say something when a loud beeping noise pierced the air. 

Coulson glared at the computer next to him; an alert had just come in. 

He tapped the screen once, and the beeping stopped. Then he pulled up the alert. 

Coulson’s eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw what it was.

“Sir...?” He turned to Fury. “The Tesseract’s Instagram page has just been updated.”

Fury looked over at Natasha, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Put it on the big screen, Agent Coulson.” Fury said, his voice overflowing with pride. Coulson looked back towards the computer, and that was when everything went black.

 

* * *

##  **UNDERGROUND BASE.**

###  **SEVERAL MINUTES EARLIER.**

  
  


Loki glared at his empty glass. He had already had three drinks, but the effects were taking forever to settle in. He was contemplating whether or not it would be a good idea to get another refilL.

He had barely slept the night before, and he felt worse than ever, plagued by an invisible illness that weakened him. 

Loki knew this was not what he should have been doing; he  _ should  _ have been making plans for another attack, preparing a speech, and possessing more Midgardians.

Instead he was sitting here, at the kitchen counter attempting to intoxicate himself so he could forget about his problems. And he couldn’t even do a task as simple as that.

“Hey Mr. Loki!” A voice cut into his internal lamentation. Loki turned and glared at the approaching Barton.

For some reason Barton still had not reverted back to being mindless like Loki’s other slaves. Loki gritted his teeth. If Barton kept this up he would have to off him.

“I have some news!” Barton announced with a wide smile.

“What is it, Barton?” Loki asked boredly.

“Nick Fury is starting the Avengers Initiative, heard it last night when you were sleeping.” Barton reported. 

“Avengers Initiative?” Loki repeated. “What’s that?”

“Uh…” Barton looked away. “I think it has something to do with superheroes.”

“What in Asgard is a superhero?” Loki asked to himself. 

“It’s what Thor is.” A voice said. Loki jumped up and looked around. Erik Selvig stood behind him, an ugly grin on his face and a peach in his hand.

Come to think of it, Selvig had not turned into a mindless drone either, Loki realized.

“That  _ oaf  _ is a superhero?” Loki snorted. “Well, he is neither super, nor a hero for that matter.”

“He kind of is.” Selvig objected.

“ _ No he’s not! _ ” Loki yelled.

“Stop making Mr. Loki upset!” Barton shouted at Selvig. Selvig merely shrugged and began to lick his peach seductively.

Loki turned back to Barton, managing to swallow his rage, at least temporarily.

“So, what does this Avengers Initiative mean for us, exactly?” Loki questioned.

“Basically it's to stop you from taking over the world. He has brought together several superheroes, which are just people with superpowers or money or stuff like that.” Barton informed. “He’s only got a few people. I’m sure we could handle them.”

Loki did not like the sound of that. Even though, in hindsight, it was ridiculous. A Midgardian rebel force? The mere thought of that was pathetic; he could kill them all in seconds.

That is, he could kill them all in seconds if he was not feeling like Hel was upon his very self.

“Be that as it may,” Loki said. “I want as much information as you can possibly gather on these... Avengers…”

“Aye aye Mr. Loki.” Barton saluted. And with that he turned and headed out of the kitchen.

Loki looked back towards his empty glass. 

“I think I have depression.” He said to himself.

“I think you’re psychotic.” Selvig said. Loki scowled. He had forgotten that Selvig was still there.

“I know a little something that’ll cheer you up.” Selvig said, his voice uncomfortably close to Loki's ear. Loki turned to face him.

“What might that be...?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Follow me.” Selvig shot him a creepy smile and walked out of the kitchen. Curiosity got the better of Loki, and he trailed closely behind Selvig.

Selvig had led him to the room where the Tesseract was being examined. The only thing that separated it from them was a clear plastic shower curtain. 

Because clear plastic shower curtains prevented radiation from getting through,

apparently.

Not that Loki had to worry about radiation. 

Selvig peeled back the curtain and stood, inches away from the Tesseract, rubbing his hands together.

“What is it?” Loki demanded.

“Watch this.” Selvig reached out, and, using his index finger, pressed the top of the Tesseract.

“ _ What are you doing?! _ ” Loki screamed. How  _ dare  _ the bumbling fool touch the magical hexahedron of power!

“Watch!” Selvig said. A white rectangle emerged out of thin air above the Tesseract. Then it showed a reflection of Selvig’s face; like a mirror.

“It can take selfies!” Selvig exclaimed. “Or, as I like to call them... Selvigies!”

“What’s a Selvigie?” Loki asked, walking over and eying the mirror with distrust. He paused when he saw his reflection and found himself smirking in admiration. 

His hair, his eyes...  _ damn.  _ No wonder he stayed single—no one would ever rival with his beauty.

“What’s the matter, you’ve never seen how ugly you were?” Selvig asked snidely. Loki glared at him. 

Selvig once again pressed the top of the Tesseract. The reflection of him froze; and then a few moments later unfroze. Then, another white rectangle appeared above the mirror-screen, and displayed the frozen image of Selvig.

“It’s taking pictures.” Selvig explained. “You try.”

Cautiously, Loki tapped the top of the Tesseract once. 

Again, the image froze, then resumed, and then the picture of himself reappeared up top.

Fascinated, Loki tapped it again.

And again. 

And again.

“This is extraordinary!” Loki exclaimed. Why didn’t Asgard have these trinkets? Loki’s mind bubbled with all the possibilities he’d have at further admiring himself.

“You have fun with that.” Selvig said as he began walking away, but Loki barely heard him as he continued to snap Selvigies.

* * *

 

##  **ASGARD**

  
  


“We leave at dusk.”

 

Sif paused from polishing her longsword, but did not look up. Sitting beside her were a handful of other Asgardian warriors, each of them preparing their armor and weaponry.

She heard the heavy  _ clink  _ of empty chains being dragged across the floor, and the sound of sharp knives and scalpels being placed into a box.

“Are we to kill him, sir?” Volstagg spoke up, standing by the doorway with a large axe in hand.

The prince gave a low, dark chuckle, which soon turned into a loud laugh.

“No,” Thor said, his voice brimming with amusement, while at the same time sounding pitying. “But I am going to make him wish we did.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, It's been awhile, I'm so sorry for keeping you guys hanging! I sort of ran into writers block after posting the last chapter, and I kept trying to write more but I just wasn't liking the direction the story was beginning to take.  
> I'd like to say that chapters will be more consistent now, but with the holiday season upon us, I'm afraid I will be busy for awhile. However, fear not, I am not abandoning this story!  
> Hope you enjoyed; this one was kinda short but overall I was really happy with it. Let me know what you think if you have the time.
> 
> Arrighty folks, I'll see you all later


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